At Last
by Broadway Wednesday
Summary: Wednesday and Pugsley have a talk about Wednesday's iciness towards her mother. Set a month after the musical.


**a/n: I felt like Wednesday was quite icy towards Morticia in the musical, so I thought the issue should be addressed. STORY HAS BEEN ALTERED SINCE FIRST PUBLISHED.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Addams Family (yet).  
Please read and review.**

"Pugsley, hold still!" came the irritated cry of his older sister.  
"Sorry Wednes, it feels really weird," apologised Pugsley.  
"Well, if you'd just hold still, I'd be finished by now," grunted Wednesday.  
Pugsley had asked Wednesday if she wanted to try and nail his ear to the wall, and she, being bored, had obliged. Of course, in practice, the whole notion was quite a bit harder than they had thought. Pugsley had very small ears, and as such it was difficult to hold them away from his head and against the wall, and Wednesday found that the angle was too awkward, as his head largely covered his ear, when she pressed his face against the wall. So, in a fit of irritation she had swung the nail gun wildly, and missed his ear, but tore the skin of her brother's cheek as the nail slid against it.  
He had, of course, shrieked like a banshee, partly out of pain and partly out of pleasure. Wednesday quickly silenced his high-pitched screams, explaining that if their parents found out that there had been a mishap, then they might not be allowed access to the weapons for a while.  
And so, there they were, both sitting on the edge of the bath tub, Wednesday attempting to stitch Pugsley's cheek back together with a needle and thread, which she had stolen from her mother's sewing box.  
"There," exclaimed Wednesday, triumphantly, "finished!"  
Pugsley stood up and walked over to the mirror, he peered at the mess that his sister had made of his face, "Cool!" he turned to Wednesday, "do you think it'll scar?"  
"Probably, it's kind of a crap sewing job," replied Wednesday, peering at her brother's reflection.

There came a knock at the door.

Wednesday's eyes flew wide open, "Quick, Pugsley, try and cover your cheek with your hair."  
Pugsley obliged. It wasn't overly effective.  
"Children?" came the voice of Morticia Addams.  
"Yeah?" asked Pugsley nervously.  
"Are you both there?" asked Morticia.  
Wednesday grunted. The door swung open.  
"Keep your cheek facing away from her," hissed Wednesday, under her breath to her brother.  
Morticia smiled at the two of them, "How miserable you both look, I do hope you're keeping yourselves entertained?"  
Pugsley nodded.  
"What do you want?" asked Wednesday, harshly.  
"I was looking for my sewing things, have you seen them, I thought I'd left them by my chair, but…"  
Wednesday turned around and reached into the bath, pulling out the sewing kit, which was in a disarray, and slightly covered in blood.  
Morticia eyed it curiously, "What have you two been up to?"  
Wednesday shrugged, Pugsley followed suit.  
"Very well," resigned Morticia, "I trust everything is still in here?" she asked, indicating the bloodied kit she was now holding.  
Wednesday nodded again.  
With that, Morticia turned and left.

After their mother was gone, Wednesday leaped up and slammed the door shut, this time locking it. She turned towards the bath and started washing Pugsley's blood from it.  
Pugsley watched her, "Why do you do that Wednes?"  
Wednesday turned to her brother, "Do what?"  
"You always act like you're annoyed at Mother, even when she doesn't do anything, I don't get it," replied Pugsley.  
"You just don't understand," replied Wednesday.  
"Then explain it to me," demanded Pugsley, "we used to all get along when we were younger, you, and me, and mother and father, but now, you've like separated from us. Especially from mother, I don't get it."  
"There's nothing _to _get Pugsley, she just bothers me now," Wednesday told him.  
"But there must be some reason," pressed Pugsley.  
Wednesday shook her head and turned back to the bloodied bath.

Pugsley stood behind her, thinking aloud, "I think it was before you met Lucas," he paused, "when did you meet Lucas anyway?"  
"Two years ago," replied Wednesday.  
"How come you never told us about him until last month?" asked Pugsley.  
"I don't know," shrugged Wednesday.  
"It was because of mother, wasn't it," Pugsley guessed.  
Wednesday stopped what she was doing and stood up, "Are you going to stop trying to analyse me anytime soon?" she asked, frustrated.  
Pugsley shook his head, "I want our family back the way it was before, and I think you're the reason it's not anymore."  
Wednesday stared at her brother, hurt, "You'd always blame me first, wouldn't you? You'd never think, maybe it was Mother's fault. There _is _a reason I'm so icy towards her, you are right Pugsley, but that is _not_ my fault."  
With that Wednesday threw open the bathroom door, breaking the lock. She stomped up to her room and slammed the door shut.

The house was quiet. Everyone had heard the commotion.

Gomez and Morticia rose from their seats simultaneously and shared a look. Together they made their way up the stairs. They stopped at the bathroom door, where Pugsley was standing by the splintered doorframe, looking sorry for himself.  
Morticia was perplexed, "What happened, darling?" she asked her son, "you two were getting along so famously a minute ago."  
Pugsley looked up at his parents. Morticia gasped.  
"Darling! Did your sister do that to you?" she asked, sounding slightly angered.  
"Do what?" asked Pugsley confused as his mother bent down to inspect his face, "Oh, that," realised Pugsley, "yeah, but it was an accident."  
The floorboards creaked as Gomez turned to hurry up the stairs to his daughter's room.  
"Mother," started Pugsley.  
"Don't worry darling, your father will see to Wednesday, come with me and we'll see about fixing up this stitching," interrupted Morticia.  
"But mother, Wednes already fixed my face. Besides, _that's_ not why she stormed off," argued Pugsley.  
"Oh," said Morticia, slightly shocked, "then why, darling?"  
Pugsley stopped, "I can't tell you, but it was my fault, I have to go upstairs and apologise."  
Morticia stood up and put her hand on her son's shoulder, "Give her a chance to calm down first," she paused, "I'd better call off your father."  
With that, she turned and followed her husband up the stairs, leaving Pugsley alone in the hall.

Gomez hadn't had a chance to scold his daughter for hurting her brother unintentionally. His heart had broken when he'd opened the door to her room and seen her crying into her pillow.  
When Morticia walked into the room she observed her husband, holding their daughter as she sobbed silently into his shoulder. Morticia smiled at the sad sight.  
She walked over to them and sat down on the bed beside Wednesday. Gently, she stroked the girl's hair.  
Wednesday calmed down.  
"Do you want to talk about it Paloma?" asked Gomez.  
Wednesday shook her head, looking down, "Pugsley just said some stuff, I got mad," she looked up, "I guess I'd better go and apologise to him."  
Morticia snorted.  
"What?" asked Wednesday icily.  
"You're brother seems to think that he should apologise to you," explained Morticia.  
Gomez chuckled, "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? Perhaps you're mother and I could help you two sort out who should be apologising to whom?"  
"No," Wednesday shook her head, "he just said some hurtful things, but I didn't need to go off at him like I did."  
Morticia smiled, "So judicious, you're growing up."  
Wednesday glared at her mother, "Can you go now?"  
"Of course, Paloma," said Gomez, standing up.  
Morticia rose and he took her hand, the two left the room.

Wednesday curled up on her bed, thinking. There came a knock at the door. She turned her head at the sound.  
"Hey Pugsley."  
"Hi Wednes, can I come in?" asked Pugsley softly.  
Wednesday sat up and patted a spot on the bed in front of her. Pugsley walked in and sat down where she had indicated.  
"Pugs, I'm sorry," said Wednesday.  
"What are you sorry for? I'm the one who upset you," argued Pugsley.  
"I know, but you were right," replied Wednesday, "maybe I am the reason, I mean, it is just me that mother seems to have a problem with."  
"I don't think she has a problem with you," Pugsley told her.  
"I know," said Wednesday, standing up to shut the door, "you think that I have a problem with her."  
"Don't you?" asked Pugsley as Wednesday sat back down on the bed.  
Wednesday shrugged.  
"Wednesday, you're crying," said Pugsley after a few moments of silence.  
"No I'm not," sniffed Wednesday as she wiped away the stray tear that had betrayed her.  
"I don't get you Wednes, you act all mean and hard, and then you go all soft," said Pugsley, "you never used to do that."  
"I know," replied Wednesday softly.  
"It was Joel wasn't it?" asked Pugsley, seemingly out of the blue.  
"What?" asked Wednesday, "I thought you blamed Lucas for making me kind of," she shuddered, "_normal_".  
"No, I mean, Joel is the reason you turned from Mother," explained Pugsley.  
"I…don't understand," Wednesday waited for him to continue.  
"Well, after you started going out with him, I think, that's when you started getting all iffy about Mother," reasoned Pugsley.  
Wednesday didn't reply, but rather, stared down at the sheets, then she looked up, "Okay Pugsley, if I tell you, will you shut up about it?"  
Pugsley nodded eagerly.  
"You're right," started Wednesday, "it was after I met Joel that Mother and I…well," she trailed off.  
"How come?" asked Pugsley.  
"Well," started Wednesday, unsurely, "I think it was what made Mother realise that I was growing up. Then I think it kind of became a competition, because she wasn't the only woman in the house anymore."  
"Grandmama was in the house," interrupted Pugsley.  
"She doesn't count, she's old."  
"Oh."  
"Anyway," continued Wednesday, "after that, she was always kind of fighting me for the spotlight, I think. I guess I kind of lost interest in loving her then."  
"So, what about Joel?" asked Pugsley.  
"She told me that he wasn't _the one_. I mean, I knew that, but I didn't want her to think that I was breaking up with him because of her. So when I finally _did_ break up with Joel, I felt like Mother was gloating."  
"She wasn't," Pugsley interrupted her again, "she was really upset that you were upset. I heard her crying to Father."  
Wednesday paused, "Really?"  
"Uh-huh," nodded Pugsley.  
Wednesday frowned, "I never knew."  
"I guess she didn't want to interrupt your misery?" suggested Pugsley.  
"I guess not," replied Wednesday, sounding far off.  
"So then, how come it took you so long to tell us about Lucas?" asked Pugsley, "you said that you knew him for two years before you let us meet him."  
Wednesday smiled as the thought of Lucas drifted into her head, "Because, he _is _the one," replied Wednesday, "I didn't want Mother messing that up."  
"But she knows now," said Pugsley, "and you guys are getting married."  
"Yeah, but boy, did she try to tell me that I just had the hots for him," replied Wednesday.  
"She doesn't now, she _knows_ that you love him," Pugsley added.  
Wednesday smiled, "I guess she does."  
"So, if Mother was right about Joel...and she wasn't gloating," started Pugsley, "and she agrees that Lucas is your _one_; then, why are you still so icy towards her?"  
Wednesday didn't reply.  
"Wednes?" asked Pugsley after a few moments of silence.  
Wednesday shook her head, frowning, "I don't know, I guess I just fell into the pattern of hating her."  
Pugsley looked sad at that, "Do you really hate her?"  
"I…thought…I did?" Wednesday said slowly, "but I can't think of a single reason why…"  
"You should have talked to me sooner Wednes," said Pugsley.  
Wednesday smiled at him, "Who made you so smart anyway?"  
"One of us had to be, since you were being so dumb about things," replied Pugsley.  
Wednesday pushed his head affectionately. Then she frowned.  
"Why are you frowning?" asked Pugsley.  
"I…think I'm going to go and talk to Mother," replied Wednesday, sounding amazed at the words that were coming out of her mouth.  
Pugsley smiled. Wednesday patted his knee as she stood up.  
"Thanks, little brother," she said breezily, leaving the room.

Morticia was sitting by the window in the kitchen, she was sewing a hem on one of Wednesday's dresses. She looked up when she saw the shadow of someone entering the room.  
"Hello darling," she smiled pleasantly, "feeling better?"  
Wednesday nodded as she walked further into the room.  
"I was just letting the hems out on some of your dresses, I think they're getting a bit short," said Morticia, looking back down at what she was doing.  
Self-consciously Wednesday tugged at her dress. She hovered by her mother, unsure of what it was that she actually wanted to say.  
Morticia looked back up at her daughter, "Did you want something darling?"  
Wednesday nodded. Morticia watched her daughter, expecting her to continue. She didn't.  
Wednesday stood awkwardly, eyes darting around the room, as her Mother looked at her, curious.  
"I wanted to talk with you…" said Wednesday quietly.  
"Oh?" said Morticia. She stood up and led Wednesday to the table, pulling out a chair.  
Wednesday pulled out her own chair, next to Morticia's and sat down facing her.  
"What did you want to talk about dear?" asked Morticia warmly.  
Wednesday fiddled with her dress, "I'm not sure what I want to say," she admitted.  
Morticia furrowed her brow slightly, confused.  
Wednesday fiddled with her dress some more, Morticia placed a hand over the girl's fidgeting ones.  
"How about a nice cup of henbane tea?" she offered, "you seem nervous."  
Wednesday swallowed and nodded quickly, keeping her eyes down at her hands.

Morticia got up and began preparing the beverages. Wednesday watched her.  
They drank the tea in silence. Once Wednesday had drained her mug she stared back at her hands. Then she inhaled, preparing to speak.  
Morticia looked thoughtfully at her daughter.  
"Do you remember when I used to paint my nails?" asked Wednesday.  
"Yes," smiled Morticia, not really understanding where the conversation was going.  
"And I used to dress up like you sometimes, like, for parties and things?" continued Wednesday.  
"Yes," repeated Morticia.  
Wednesday leaned back into her chair, "I so wanted to be just like you."  
Morticia smiled, "Lots of girls want to be like their mothers, Wednesday. You've grown into your own person now," Morticia touched her daughter's hand, "and you're lovely, and I'm so proud of you."  
Wednesday looked up at her mother, smiling slightly. She scuffed her shoes on the wooden floor.  
Morticia waited for her to speak some more.  
"I've been talking with Pugsley," started Wednesday, "he wanted to know why I don't like you anymore."  
"Wednesday-" started Morticia softly.  
"No," interrupted Wednesday, "but I really, truly _hated_ you, but then Pugsley asked me why."  
Wednesday paused, breathing heavily, realising that she'd gone into a situation that she couldn't back out of.  
Morticia stared at her, with sad eyes.  
"And I realised that I couldn't answer him, I couldn't think of one reason why I felt that way," Wednesday paused.  
Morticia waited for her to continue.  
"Pugsley said that you cried when I broke up with Joel."  
Morticia nodded, "You were unhappy, and not in a pleasant way, you were hurt in a way that no mother could bear."  
"You never said…" trailed off Wednesday.  
"You had your own problems, there was no need to worry you with your foolish mother," replied Morticia softly.  
Wednesday nodded, her face contorted as she tried to hold back any emotion from her expression, "Mother, I'm really sorry."  
Morticia got up from her place at the table and kneeled next to her daughter, wrapping her arms around her.  
"I must have hurt you, all of the times that I've rejected your help, your affection, I'm so sorry Mother," said Wednesday, emotion catching in her voice.  
"That's all right darling, it's okay," replied Morticia gently, as a single tear escaped from her eye.  
Wednesday laughed through the tears that were building up in her own eyes, "I feel so dumb, I didn't mean to cry."  
"It's okay darling," repeated Morticia.  
Wednesday nodded.

That evening, after the family had eaten dinner, they had all retired to the living room. Gomez was practising his zen yogi, Fester was playing bridge with Grandmama, Thing, and Itt. Pugsley and Wednesday were sitting at their mother's feet, reading through one of Pugsley's comic books. Morticia sat in her chair, knitting a scarf for Gomez. She looked down at her two children reading peacefully together. She felt a great sense of pride swell in her heart whenever she saw how well the two got on together, tonight was no exception. She smiled, looking around the room at her loving family.

Lurch entered the room with a tray of wine glasses, an empty bottle, and a bunch of grapes. He handed the latter two items to Thing, who made short work of them. Lurch poured the fresh wine into the glasses and served them to the adult members of the family, Wednesday was offered some, but she refused. She did, however come and sit beside her mother.

"Mother?" she asked.  
"Yes Wednesday, darling," said Morticia looking up from her knitting.  
Wednesday pointed towards her brother with her head, "Would you please teach me how to sew? Just in case anything like that happens again?" she indicated Pugsley's cheek.  
"Of course, darling," replied Morticia. She turned to pull the noose beside her chair, jumping slightly when she saw Lurch already standing there with the sewing kit in his hands, "Thank you Lurch."  
Wednesday leaned into her mother, as she began to teach her how to thread the needle….


End file.
